Green Eyes
by Lots-of-Little-Pink-Clouds
Summary: Her eyes glowed an eerie green and Dudley saw in them wisdom beyond his years. They were eyes that had seen men born, grow, and die from sickness and war. They were eyes that stared into the abyss and went mad from the revelation. They were eyes that had seen things no man should ever have to see. Fem!Harry AU
1. Lily Potter

**Disclaimer** : I do not own Harry Potter.

 **Title** : Green Eyes, Nine Lives

 **Rating** : T

 **Pairing(s)** : Not at the moment. Check again later.

* * *

 **Green Eyes**

 _Prologue: Lily Potter_

They felt the wards drop.

James' smile faded. Baby Heather stopped playing with her stuffed black dog and looked up and around. Lily stood from the couch. She cursed the war, as it took so much from her. She cursed Voldemort, as he was the cause of it. She cursed Peter for betraying them. She cursed not having her wand on her. James shot to his feet and grabbed his from the carpeted floor.

They heard the front door unlock. _Click_.

"Lily." James grasped her by the shoulders. "Take Heather and run."

" _James_."

"Lily." His grip tightened. "Lily, _please_."

They locked eyes. Her lip quivered. Her eyes itched. She grabbed her husband by the shirt. " _James_. James, no-"

He kissed her. They pulled away. He rested his forehead against hers. She could see the tears in his eyes.

" _Go_."

She didn't want to.

The front door flew off its hinges and crashed into the opposite wall.

They pulled away. Lily scooped Heather up into her arms and ran for the stairs. She ducked as a spell flew over her head. It hit the wall beside her, knocking framed pictures of their time at Hogwarts, their wedding, and Heather just after she was born to the ground. She reached the stairs and climbed them two at a time. The war that they hid from started up again in the living room behind her. She cursed and sobbed as she realized that it would likely be the last time she saw her husband.

Her husband would not see their daughter grow up. He would not see her go to Hogwarts. He would not see her play Quidditch or date boys or graduate or get married. Lily knew she likely wouldn't either.

Lily ran down the upstairs hallway and slammed the door of Heather's room shut behind her. She tried to apparate. It didn't work. She tried a second time just to be sure. She checked the window and thought about jumping. She couldn't risk Heather getting hurt. If she had her wand, she would have done it in a heartbeat.

The spell-fire from downstairs stopped.

Lily placed Heather into her crib. Her baby girl clutched her stuffed dog tightly and looked up with green eyes just like hers. Lily knelt down, entangling their fingers together through the crib's bars. She wondered what it would have felt like if her daughter was all grown up. Her hands would have been so much bigger. It almost made Lily cry just thinking about it.

"Heather," Lily whispered. "Heather, mummy loves you. Daddy loves you. Be safe. Be strong."

Mother and daughter stared into each other's eyes. Lily poured all of her love into that look. She hoped Heather would survive. She hoped that Heather would understand someday. She hoped that Heather would grow up happy and healthy and loved. Lily hoped, and hoped, and hoped.

The door behind her opened.

Heather squeezed her hand. Lily saw love in the slow blink her daughter gave her. She saw understanding. She saw gratitude and kindness and truth. She smiled and knew her daughter would be alright.

"How _touching_."

Lily stood proud and tall and turned to the cloaked man who stood in the doorway.

"Not Heather, please not Heather!"

"Stand aside, stupid girl."

"Take me instead! Not Heather, please!"

" _Move aside_."

"Please, please…"

"Avada Kedavra!"

The green light of the killing curse hurled towards her and Lily Potter knew no more.


	2. Dudley Dursley I

**Disclaimer** : I do not own Harry Potter.

 **Title** : Green Eyes, Nine Lives

 **Rating** : T

 **Pairing(s)** : None at the moment. Check again later.

* * *

 **Green Eyes**

 _Chapter 1: Dudley Dursley I_

Dudley Dursley lived at the fourth house on Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey. His mum was the nicest woman and best mum in the whole world (in Dudley's opinion). His dad worked at Grunnings – they made drills. But he also was the smartest man that Dudley had ever known.

Dudley's cousin Heather also lived with them.

Heather had been around for as long as he could remember. She had blonde hair (like his mum's, but a different shade), high cheekbones, and vivid green eyes. Dudley remembered overhearing his mum saying that Heather looked a lot like his aunt Lily. Dudley never met his aunt Lily, but he figured she was really pretty, like his mum – but not _as_ pretty as his mum, no one could ever be prettier than her.

Dudley's mum and dad didn't like Heather.

They yelled at her for being too loud and made her do all the chores (Dudley hated chores). She slept in the cupboard under the stairs (the cupboard was dark and full of spiders and dust – Dudley hated it). When they were five, Heather began helping his mum cook. She would stand on the tips of her toes while on a stool to reach the counter. When she messed up, his mum would swing a frying pan at her head. Heather was very good at dodging.

Dudley was young and learning from the examples his parents set. And his parents taught him that he shouldn't like blonde-haired, green-eyed, Heather Potter, who looked a lot like her mother.

So, he didn't.

* * *

When they began primary school, Dudley and Heather were put in the same class.

Their teacher, stern and grey-haired Mrs. Cunningham, did rollcall. When Heather's name was called that first day, his cousin, straight-backed with head held high, raised her hand and told the woman she was present. Dudley stared at his normally silent and submissive cousin all of first period. She spoke with the other girls at her table, smiling and laughing.

He made friends with the boys at his table: Piers Polkiss, Dennis Warrington, Gordon Schmidt, and Malcolm Harris. At recess, Dudley and his friends confronted Heather.

"Oi Potter!"

"Yes Dudley?"

"I have an idea for a new game I want to play."

She smiled. "Really? Let's hear it then."

"It's called Heather Hunting. You run, and we chase you."

"That's it? How dull."

Dudley flushed. Beside him, Piers stood up straight.

"You're dull!"

She rolled her eyes. " _Real_ mature, Polkiss. Did your mother teach you that one?"

Dudley's hands clenched. "If you don't play, we'll beat you up!"

"You can certainly try."

Dudley threw the first punch. Heather dodged – he remembered that she was very good at dodging. He didn't realize how good she was at hitting though.

Five minutes later, Dudley found himself on his back. His friends groaned on the ground around him. Heather's blurry form came into focus. She kicked him in the side.

" _Watch yourself_ , Dursley."

In the distance, Dudley heard Mrs. Cunningham yelling. He cried.

* * *

Heather was yelled at and grounded when they got home.

His mum fussed over him the entire night ("My poor Diddikins, she didn't hurt you too badly, did she?") and Dudley milked it for what it was worth. He ate dinner in the living room and watched T.V. while Heather was locked in her cupboard for the rest of the evening. When he finally went to bed, he smiled, convinced that his cousin had finally gotten her comeuppance.

The next day, his dad gave Heather a stern talking to before he left for work. Heather was as submissive and compliant as she had been before.

She missed first and second recess. Dudley and his friends spread the word to the rest of their year about Heather Potter beating them up. During third recess, she played by herself on the monkey bars. Dudley and his friends confronted her again.

"No one wants to be friends with you, Potter. Might as well play with us."

She laughed. The sound carried throughout the schoolyard. All eyes were on her.

"What's so funny?" Dudley sneered.

"Are you asking for another go?" Her eyes flashed. She smiled mockingly. Her feet kicked back and forth as she sat on the monkey bars. "Surely you can't be that stupid?"

Everyone gasped. Dudley's mouth dropped open. He didn't know what stupid meant, but it sounded offensive.

"Get down here, Potter, and face me like a man!"

"I'm a girl, Dursley, get your facts right."

" _What_ is going on here?!" Mrs. Cunningham strode over, brown eyes narrowed. "Causing trouble again, Potter? Come down from there, right this instance!"

"Yes, Mrs. Cunningham!" Heather stood on the bars and took a step off. Once her feet touched the ground, she cartwheeled forwards once and skipped over to their teacher with a sweet smile. Dudley knew that that should have been impossible – his mum had never enrolled her in gymnastics.

* * *

When he told his mum this, she yelled at Heather for a good half hour. As she settled down, Heather's head tilted to the side.

" _Are you done_?"

Dudley's jaw dropped open. Heather leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. Her green eyes flashed. A cold breeze swept through the kitchen, making Dudley shiver. None of the windows were open, all of the doors, locked.

"You stop that… that _freakishness_ , this instant!" his mum shrieked.

Heather raised an eyebrow. The wind picked up. The pictures on the wall started rattling. The glass in the cabinets started shaking. The kitchen chairs began to slide across the floor. The clock chimed four times.

"In all my years," Heather whispered, "I have never been treated with such _disrespect_. I rarely forget things, Petunia Dursley. If you do not treat me with the kindness you would expect from others, I will make your life a _living hell_."

Her eyes glowed an eerie green and Dudley saw in them wisdom beyond his years. They were eyes that had seen men born, grow, and die from sickness and war. They were eyes that stared into the abyss and went mad from the revelation. They were eyes that had seen things no man should ever have to see. Dudley saw his mother on the floor, not breathing, a cloaked man standing over her with a white, skeletal stick. He found himself unable to cry out, unable to scream as the man approached. He saw green light.

Dudley pissed himself, the liquid seeping through his pants and into his mum's floral sofa. The light vanished. The wind stopped. Everything in their home became still.

Heather Potter gave his mum a sweet, sickening, _mad_ smile. "Do we have an agreement?"

Dudley watched his mum nod, her face pale and hands shaking.

Heather stood and skipped from the room, humming a tune neither knew. She climbed the stairs to the second floor, opened a door, and then closed it with a definitive bang. Dudley began to cry. His mum comforted him, ushering him upstairs to the bathroom to wash up. All the while, she babbled her desire for him to forget what just happened, like young children normally do.

But Dudley could not forget.

Dudley _would not_ forget.


End file.
